


The Pride of the Inquistion

by SerenityFalconNormandy



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullen is sometimes clueless, Dorian is the best brother from another mother ever, F/M, Mabari are precious, Mage rights!, Orleisian politics, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 12:04:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12581512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenityFalconNormandy/pseuds/SerenityFalconNormandy
Summary: Written for boltlightning as part of the DA Reddit's October Art/Fic exchange.Their request was "argent is my canon inquisitor and also my heart and soul, so i tend to lean towards her. and gotdamn, i'm a sucker for both romance and friendship, so either of those will very much tickle my fancy!"Sometimes, two people who are very much in love just need a little push.





	The Pride of the Inquistion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [boltlightning](https://archiveofourown.org/users/boltlightning/gifts).



_ Back to Halamshiral we go _ , Argent thought to herself as they paraded in. Thank the Maker Cullen and Josephine were at her back. All the Orlesians staring at them through their masks made her nervous, reminding her of the last time they’d been to the Winter Palace. The dance with Cullen was the only really happy memory she had from the Inquisition’s time in Orlais. Bless him for giving her that.

 

She turned and smiled at Cullen as they dismounted, the elven stablehands whisking their mounts away into the depths of the royal stables. From what Josephine had said on the trip in, Marquise Briala was in the Dales attending to the situation there and putting things to rights with the Dalish, while the Grand Duke was sulking around in the Fields of Ghislain, his title as the Empress’s Consul largely ceremonial. She knew she was frowning, stressed about the implications of the Exalted Council, when Cullen caught her hand and pulled her into the shadows of the stableyard. “Are you alright, Argent?”

 

“Just worried, Cullen. Two years isn’t so long since Corypheus was defeated, but memory is rather short in Orlais.” She leaned her forehead against his chest, letting out an unhappy sigh. “I wish we were back in Skyhold, although it will be nice to see Lel-Divine Victoria-and the others again.”

 

His arms came up around her, and Cullen rested his cheek on her head. “You will be fine.  _ We _ will be fine. You’re the Inquisitor. I have faith that there’s nothing you can’t handle.”

 

Argent blushed, then tilted her face up to him. “As long as I have you here, of course.”

 

“Yes-well-” he stammered, resisting the urge to reach up and rub the back of his neck. Maker, how he adored her. Here in Orlais, though, they had to be circumspect. Josephine was still turning away offers of marriage from the  _ last  _ time the Inquisition had paraded into Halamshiral, and she appeared to be getting more disapproving with every rejection sent back. That was not a burden he wanted to lay on Argent’s shoulders, though. He just wished that the Orlesians would get it through their flighty heads that he didn’t want to be with anyone but the woman in his arms. 

 

Josephine made an impatient noise from somewhere outside the stables, and they sprang apart, blushes rising on both their faces. Cullen held out his arm with a bow. “May I,  _ Inquisitor? _ ”

 

“I would be honored,  _ Commander. _ ”

* * *

 

“ _ Dorian! _ ”

 

Argent’s normal shyness melted away when she spotted the Tevinter mage. With all the eagerness of a mabari puppy, she dashed across the Halamshiral courtyard and flung herself at him. Cullen chuckled as Dorian staggered back and caught himself before he and Argent went over the garden railing into the bushes. He turned to wander around the large yard. It had been too long since Argent had seen the brother of her heart, she would want time alone with him. A distant bark drew his attention. It was too loud and deep for it to be one of the barking rats Orlesians normally preferred, perhaps the Winter Palace boasted a kennel of actual hounds now?

* * *

 

“Sweet Maker, my darling Lea!” Dorian squeezed Argent, calling her by the nickname she still hadn’t figured out. Argent squeaked at him, smacking his back, “I’m not Bull! Not so tight!”

 

He laughed and set her on her feet, “Just a bit of retribution for wrinkling my clothes and nearly sending us into the bushes, my darling. How have you been? It feels like it’s been ten years!”

 

“I’m good, Dorian. Mostly riding around with Cullen and Inquisition troops closing the last lingering rifts. Helping where Cole says we’re needed-it’s mostly the same, just without Corypheus trying to end everything.” Argent sat down on one of the benches, turning her dusky face to the sun and closing her eyes wearily. “And now we’re here again.”

 

“Speaking of your delightful Commander, I note your hands are appallingly bare. Are you two waiting for something?” Dorian picked up the hand with the Mark, brushing his thumb over her ring finger. He needed to distract her from the Exalted Council. “I thought when I went back to Tevinter you two would at least have announced an engagement by now.”

 

“I-” She was taken aback. In the Circle, marriage was never an option. It hadn’t even occurred to her that she and Cullen might be able to...

 

Dorian dropped onto the bench next to her. “Don’t tell me he hasn’t even asked?”

 

“To be honest, Dorian, this is the first time I even realized I’d even be allowed to get married.” She let out a little laugh, “No wonder Josephine was getting offers for me, I was so confused!” 

 

“You-Argent, really? After allying with the mages and putting Leliana on the Sunburst Throne, you didn’t know?” He was absolutely aghast. This would not do! Josephine wouldn’t be able to put off the Orlesian nobility forever, and the only way to keep his beloved, darling girl happy was to ensure she was married to her dear clueless Commander. He would not allow them to end up otherwise. “Would you marry him if he asked? 

 

Her golden feline eyes went soft, and she breathed out, “Oh, Maker, yes.”

 

Dorian rose and kissed her scarred cheek, and said fondly, “Everyone is here for the Council, my darling Lea, and I cannot monopolize you. Go and speak to everyone else, then we can catch up. Don’t want all these Southerners thinking I’m working blood magic on you or some such ridiculousness.”

 

Argent laughed, and danced away when he made to swat at her backside to send her off. Dorian grabbed up his staff, and marched off to find that dunderheaded Fereldan Commander. 

* * *

 

Cullen scratched behind the mabari’s ears, wondering what had been done with the breeding stock. The merchant had been less than forthcoming about this one, with its odd ears, somewhat blank expression, and longer snout. More than likely, someone had been trying to ‘improve’ mabari looks to sell to Orlesians, and in the process, ruined the magnificent creature.

 

“There you are, Commander!” Cullen shot up at Dorian’s accusatory tone. The Tevinter hooked arms with him and said, “I need a moment of your time,  _ immediately _ .”

 

“Dorian, what is this about?” His stride was longer than Dorian’s, and he was stumbling every few steps as the shorter man hustled him into a smaller side yard. Releasing him, Dorian fixed him with a glare that made the hair on the back of Cullen’s neck stand up. “I am absolutely  _ appalled  _ at your negligence, Cullen Stanton Rutherford.”

 

“Negligence? Did I miss something with Inquisition security measures? Maker, did something happen to Argent?” His face paled and he made to shove past Dorian to check on the Inquisitor.

 

“No, you daft man, Argent is safe. How have you not proposed to my dear girl yet? Are you waiting for something special? A sign from the Maker? If you are, consider this it.” Dorian gestured to himself. 

 

Cullen blinked. Speaking slowly to make sure Dorian understood why he hadn’t even considered it, he bit out, “Argent is a mage, Dorian. Mages can’t get married. Not here, anyway.” 

 

Dorian pinched the bridge of his nose. “Andraste preserve me, the two of you. The Circles are no more, Cullen. Your Divine Victoria has radically changed the Southern Chantry, do you really think that she would object to any mage, Argent in particular, getting married?”

 

“I... I really don’t know.” Dorian had to stop himself from bursting out laughing at the bewildered look on Cullen’s face as he spoke. He slung his arm back into Cullen’s and kept a straight face with sheer force of will, drawling out, “You _do_ have access to Divine Victoria while you’re here to get her blessing to marry our dearest Argent, or at the very least a Chantry mother’s if you wish. I have it on _very_ good authority the lady herself wouldn’t say no.”

 

“Really?” Cullen half-smiled, and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. 

 

“No, Cullen, this is all part of an elaborate ruse she and I have worked out over the past three years simply to toy with you on the off chance we ended up in this very happenstance. Of course,  _ really _ .” Dorian dragged him towards Leliana, who was petting the unfortunate looking mabari that Cullen had been scritching earlier. “Go ask for Leliana’s blessing right now, before you get cold feet.”

 

“Right. Yes, definitely.” Cullen paused at Dorian’s hand gripping his arm. “Just know, Cullen, if you ever harm my darling Lea, make her cry, or anything of that sort, I will happily freeze your feet to the ground to let Bull give you the thrashing of a lifetime. Then, it will be  _ my  _ turn.”

 

The Fereldan gulped, and Dorian patted him on the back. “Now, off you go.”

* * *

 

Argent found Cullen playing with a mabari, throwing a ball and groaning when the dog caught it and brought it back, dropping it at his feet and panting over the slobbery mess with pride.

 

“You there! You’re to dodge, not catch. If that ball were a fireball, you’d be dead.” Cullen’s tone was serious. The mabari just tilted his head and gave a soft, curious whine, eyes wide and trusting, then barked.  

 

Her tone came out a bit flatter than she’d meant for it to, “You… found a dog?”

 

“They don’t breed mabari in Orlais. The merchant said he’d been abandoned. Perhaps his owners tired of the novelty?” Cullen scratched the mabari under his chin, and the dog rolled his head into it, lolling his tongue out and closing his eyes. Argent grinned and knelt down, scratching behind an ear while peeping at Cullen from beneath her lashes. “Tired of you? With that positive attitude and fetching ability?”

 

The mabari barked, and Cullen shook his head at him. “He’s not supposed to fetch it…”

 

“I don’t think you understand how this works.” Argent rolled her eyes at Cullen.

 

“Another Fereldan trapped at the Winter Palace-I couldn’t leave him to that fate. Besides, I think he likes me.” The big, slobbery lick the mabari gave him definitely appeared to confirm it. “Ugh.”

 

“I never expected  _ you  _ to make friends at a political council. How times have changed.”

 

Cullen laughed as he pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his face, “So they have,” his tone dropped, became more serious, “The Inquisition will change after this. I’m not yet sure what that will mean. Still, I’ve found certainty in my life now; the council won’t change that.”

 

Feeling the decree from Leliana crinkling in the breast pocket of his jacket, the first for any mage that wished for one, Cullen blurted out, “Marry me.”

 

“What?” Argent shot up, nearly falling over, and Cullen grabbed for her, holding her up as he stood. “I mean, will you...erh… I had a plan, and… there wasn’t a dog. But you were… it doesn’t matter. I’ve thought of little else, and I don’t need a plan. Only to know if you would…” 

 

_ Maker, what if Dorian had been wrong? _

 

“I would.” Her eyes lit, liquid gold meeting his amber. “Cullen, I will.” 

 

“You will.” Cullen swept her up in his arms, spinning her around as the mabari leaped around them, barking happily. 

* * *

 

Across the yard, Varric slapped ten sovereigns into Dorian’s hand. 

 

“Who’d have thought Curly would actually get it together enough to ask her before they died of old age. Sparkler, how do you  _ do  _ it?”

 

“Never you mind that, Varric. Now, an important detail you must have when you write about this, because I _know_ you will, is my nickname for our darling Argent. Lea is Tevene for ‘lioness’. She does have a rather leonine look to her, don’t you think?”

 

Varric gaped, and then busted up laughing. “The Lion of Ferelden and the Lioness of the Free Marches. It’s perfect! The Inquisition has a pride!” 

 


End file.
